An Average Day with The Gorillaz
by cooliochick5
Summary: Nothing is ever average with the Gorillaz. Read as they turn every day events into an adventure.
1. Grocery Shopping

Ah, grocery shopping, one of the most hated tasks of man-kind. Or, at least is was to the Gorillaz. It was Murdoc who hated it to most. A lot of the times, it went a little something like this:

"Fuck! We're all outta beer!" Murdoc says as he slams the refrigerator door shut.

"Don't ya got any left in that damn Winnie o' yours?" Russel looks up from his taxidermy pig/squirrel/racecar project.

"Lards, do ya really think if I had beer in the Winnie I'd be standin' here?"

"Point taken, man. Well, yer just gone have to get some more."

"No."

"Well no beer then, man!" Russel slams his project on the table, breaking off one of the wheels, "Damn, took me two damn hours ta get that shit on.

"FACEACHE!" Murdoc screams, investigating the refrigerator one last time. After several moments of silence, the bassist calls again. With still no response, Murdoc marches straight in to 2D's room and drags him out by his blue locks. The singer was in the middle of a drug-induced nap and didn't even wince. That was until Murdoc shoved his head in the refridgerator.

"COLD!" The younger man jumps, knocking his head against the top of the freezer.

"That'll teach ewe to come when I call." Murdoc folds his arms.

"Gay." Russel coughs from the table. Murdoc shot him a glare before looking back at the sleepy singer.

"M-m sorry, M-Mudz, I jus' go' a migraine and was takin' a n-nap, an-." Murdoc raises his fist, causing the poor boy to wince, throwing his arms over his head.

"Shut up a sec, would ewe! I need ya to go to the store and pick me up some beer."

"Dun ya got any beer in the Winnie?" 2D rubs his eyes. Murdoc growls,

"Facheache, if I had beer in the Winnie, WOULD I REALLY BE STANDING HERE!"

"Well, I dunno, Mudz." 2D flings his hands over his head again. Murdoc growls

"Just go pick some up!"

"Go?" Every looked up to see Noodle skipping into the room.

"Yes, 2-Dents over here needs to go." Murdoc elaborates. Noodle looks very confused now,

"2D go where?" The child asks, looking at the singer. Was he going away forever? Did she need to start throwing a tantrum?"

"To the bloody store!" Murdoc was getting frustrated now by all the questions.

"Oh...go too?" Noodle asks. Russel gives her a questioning look,

"You want ta go to the store too?"

"Hai!"

"Why, Noodle?"

"No pocky!" Noodle answers. Russel gets up and checks the cupboard. Sure enough, there isn't a box of pocky to be seen. In all seriousness, there are no boxes to be seen; the cupboards were completely bare.

"Damn, man, looks like we ain't go nothin' ta eat." Russel looks one more time before closing the cabinet.

"Looks loike we nee' ta go to the store."

"Great idea, man."

Murdoc gets a look of murderous rage on his face.

* * *

"Alright, we get in, get the beer-"

"And cereal."

"And pocky."

"And milk."

"And bread."

"Yogur-"

"ALRIGHT! We get in, get beer AND food, and get out!"

"Ya forgot 'pay for-"

"SHUT IT, FACEACHE!" Murdoc smacks the man upside the head, pulling up right outside the store (Murdoc Niccals: Parking Space Inventor.)

"Ca' I ride in the car'?"

"No, 2-Dents." Murdoc growls.

"Ride in cart?" Noodle chimes. Murdoc rubs at his temple before bending over to lift the child and tossing her into the cart.

"Let's just go get the damn beer."

"Mudz, can I go look at videogames?"

"Whatever, just dun get lost or kicked out like last time." Murdoc growls.

"Ah, tha' was one time, Mudz."

"Just get out of here!" Murdoc exclaims, getting quite a few stares. Ignoring them, Murdoc and Noodle head off to the alcohol aisle. Selecting his favorite brand, Murdoc sets it in the cart beside Noodle.

"B-ee-r?" Noodle asks.

"Yes, dun drink it. Ever." Murdoc heads to the cereal.

"Why?"

"Cause it's bad?"

"But drink it." Noodle points an accusing finger at him.

"Well, I'm bad, there for, I make bad decisions."

"Murdoc-san stupid?"

"Yes, yes I am, now pick a damn cereal." Murdoc leaned on the handle of the cart. Noodle looks at him, then the cereal, the back at him, then at her shoes, then back at the cereal.

"Which one?"

"I dunno, which ever you want." Murdoc groaned. Noodle stared at the variety of cereals. Did she want to ones with the tiger on the box? Or the one with the toy inside...maybe the one with marshmallows! Maybe all of them!

Murdoc watched in pure horror as the child put every box of cereal into the cart.

* * *

"Alright, let'-WHY THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU GET ALL THAT DAMN LUNCH MEAT!?" Russel placed the twenty-five pounds of meat into the cart.

"Why the hell did ya get so much damn cereal?" He retorted.

"THAT WAS NOODLE!"

"Where 2D-san?" Noodle tugged at Murdoc's sleeve.

"Wha- oh, right, I forgot 'bout the damn dullard."

"Maybe he's dead." Russel shoves his hands in his pockets.

"If only I could be so lucky." Murdoc headed toward the video games, but much to everyone's, the singer wasn't there.

"Oh for the love o- he went and got 'imself lost again!" Murdoc yells in frustration.

"Yo, calm the hell down, peeps are startin' to stare." Russel says through gritted teeth. Murdoc growls lowly, before rubbing his temple,

"Fine, whatever, can we ju-"

"There!" Noodle points to the child care center where a very distraught 2D is sitting in a chair that is much to small for him, crying lightly as a worker hands him another piece of candy.

"There, there, we'll find your friends." She says sweet, 2D nods in response.

"Oy, Faceache!" Murdoc calls over to him.

"Mudz!? The'e ya guys a'e! I though' ya left meh!" He throws his arms around Murdoc, only to be tossed to the ground.

"Ge' off me! Let's just go." Murdoc sends a sultry look toward the worker before the band leaves quickly, forgetting to pay.

* * *

Safely back at Kong, groceries are unloaded.

"Good thing that's over." Murdoc sighs.

"Wait..." Noodle speaks up.

"Wha' is it now?"

"Forgot pocky!"

**_Disclaimers: I own nohting_**


	2. The Great Outdoors

There were many reasons why you should hate the outdoors. For one thing, the fucking sun was too damn hot at times. The light could burn your eyeballs if you stared too long. Second was the damn cold wind. It liked to blow just as you got out of the pool and stayed there until you went inside again. The last reason was because of the damn insects. They always buzzed right past your ear, landed in your soup, and stung you when you were least expecting it. And yet, here you were, outside, slowly burning to death with an annoying buzzing in your ear.

You are Murdoc Niccals, and you are currently your local park.

You mumbled to yourself as you dig around in your coat pockets for another cigarette. Once you find another stick of happiness, you realize you're without a lighter. Sure, you could just use the fucking sun to light your cig for you, but that would just be too much effort. You place the fag between your lips anyway, swearing to Satan for some miracle that would light the damn thing.

Alas, no such luck.

A faint breeze picks up, chilling you to no end. It was barely a light blow, anyway, barely enough to pick the damn dullard you knew as 2D's kite off the ground. You smirk a bit as you watch him run about the park in all different directions, even trip on his own two feet, trying to get the kite in the air.

Much like you're cigarette being lit by the sun, that kite getting in the air wouldn't be happening anytime soon.

Taking your eyes away, you look over to see Russel in the sandbox, building a sand castle. Or a sand pig. Hell, maybe it was a sand lady. From this angle, it really didn't resemble anything more than a pile of sand. You watching him build the pile up, stick a twig in the top, then watched it all come crumbling down again. It was almost funny to watch. Russle was much to big for the sand box and on any matter, was also a full grown adult. And yet, here he was, building The David. Or maybe it was supposed to be Marilyn Monroe. A duck? Whatever it was, Russel was hard at work with it and it just seemed funny to you.

Much like you're cigarette being lit by the sun, his masterpiece wouldn't be finished anytime soon.

A soft creak of rusted chains tears your attention away from the drummer turned artist to the swing set. There were three regular swings and two baby swing. On the very last bench at the end of the line was your guitarist, Noodle.

She dangles her tiny legs over the edge of the swing, staring at her reflection in a puddle beneath her. Though the wind wasn't strong enough to make 2D's kite soar, it was strong enough to push her frail body gently. You watch as a look of determination spreads across her features as she grips the chains just a bit tighter. She straightens herself up and straightens her legs before quickly tucking them back under her. She leans her chest forward before pulling back on the chains. Before you can blink, the swing and the tiny girl are higher than the clouds, well, at least in her mind, anyway.

Much like you're cigarette being lit by the sun, Noodle being in the clouds wouldn't be happening anytime soon.

You turn your attention back to the blue haired boy, still running in circles with the damn flightless kite. Shaking your head, you get up from the bench.

"Oy, Faceache, need any help?"

"Ah, ya, Muds, a bit." He calls back. You stroll over to the kite and pick it up. You hold it above your head before nodding.

"Alright, dullard, start running." The singer nods and takes off down a hill. With the slight change in height, the wind catches the kite and carries it into the air. 2D's laughter echos through the park as he watches the kite soar through the sky. You watch it float before turning your attention to Russel.

"Oy, Russ, need any help?" You sit on the edge of the sandbox. Russel looks up at you.

"Um, yeah, sure man. Just can't get this damn sand to stick, ya dig?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. Did ye try addin' water yet?"

"Man, I didn' even think o' that!" Russel claps a hand to his forehead, reaching for a near by waterbottle. You watch as the sand pile turns to sand walls in a matter of seconds. Lastly, you look up at Noodle on the swings.

"Need a push, luv?" You stand off to the side so not to get hit.

"Hai!" Noodle grins brightly as you take hold of the chains, pulling back. You let them go and she moves forward. When she comes back, you push lightly on her back and send her even higher. Her giggles combine with 2D's laughter, filling the park.

Smiling a bit. You retreat back to your park bench, watching 2D pilot, Russel build, and Noodle soar. The sun begins to sink behind the horizon, forgetting to light your cigarette.

When they are all done with their own adventures, 2D, Russel, and Noodle join you on the bench.

"Ay, Mudz, nee' a loight?" The blue hair man pulls out his lighter. Noodle leans into you, her little eyes closing. Russel dusts of the sand on his hands and smiles.

"Sure, faceache...thanks."

Maybe the sun couldn't light your cigerate, and it would probably never happen, but at least you had friends who would do it for you.

But seriously, the outside sucks and you had many reasons to hate it. But you had no reasons to hate your friends.

And much like you're cigarette being lit by the sun, you regretting your friends wouldn't be happening anytime soon.

**_A/N: Dedicated to my amazingly amazing bud, Babylon1914. Thank you for the reviews XD THANKS FOR READING!_**


	3. Fourth Of July

**_A/N: I know Fourth of July is an American holiday. The idea here was that Russel would celebrate fourth of July, saying is how he is from America. So, that's just to clarify. This was originally a Christmas, then Easter fic, but I did felt like writing a summer fic because it's been cold here._**

Ah, fourth of July. The day were getting drunk and handling fireworks was completely okay. A beautiful holiday indeed. It was your favorite holiday, actually. Yeah, you enjoyed the booze, but that wasn't your favorite part.

You woke up on the particular day with no sense of dread in your heart and no kind of hangover to be spoken of. It was quite nice, laying in your Egyptian silk sheets, staring up at the posters on your ceiling. A stream of sunlight pours through your window and for once, you embrace it. It warms your skin and lights the Winne in such a way that it makes you want to stay in there all day.

But, today is not the day for snoozing.

You pull yourself out of your bed, groaning at your bones creak and pop. You run your fingers through your greasy, un-kept hair, thinking today might be the prefect day for a shower. You let your feet touch the shag (harhar) carpet on the floor, curling your toes a few times in the stringy material before standing yourself up. You're a tad dizzy at first, but it quickly wares off, allowing you to reach toward your ceiling, cracking your spine a few times in the process. You notice a few shouts of disproval from the yard and head over to your filthy windows. You don't even need to pull back the moth eaten curtains to know what is going on, but you look outside anyway. There is your singer, 2D, or faceache as you were always calling him, doing his best to fill a few water balloons, however with Noodle, armed with a water pistol, thinking it was time for play, this task proved to be a challenge.

You can't help but smirk just a bit as you second guess the shower idea, now occupying yourself with the task of searching for a pair of pants. In all honestly, half of your clothes could probably stand up on their own by now and it wasn't a matter of finding a pair of jeans, it was a matter of finding a clean pair among the mess.

"Maybe I shoul' just throw all meh shit out of the lawn if the'e's gonna be a wateh fight." You comment, finding a pair of clean jeans and tugging them on. The knees of the jeans are blown out completely, nothing more of them now. There's a stain on one of the legs and you spend a moment trying to figure out what exactly it was. You think it's more than likely chocolate milk, but you can't remember the last time you ever drank the beverage. You're snapped out of your thoughts when a something hits your window.

"Sweet Satan!" You swear as you pull back the curtains now. 2D and Noodle are sharing very accusing looks, the water pistol and balloons are long forgotten as they stare at you. You open the window and 2D cringes in fear.

"Oy...ye missed a spot," You joke, before quickly adding, "Fucking sod."

You close the curtain again before leaving the Winne to inspect the damage. Yes, yes, just as you thought. A perfectly clean window. Welp, punishment must be served you suppose. You stride over to the hose, picking it up off of the muddy ground. You turn the water on and wait until you have a nice stream going.

"START RUNNIN'!" You call, quickly turning the hose on them.

2D yelps in surprise, sliding in the mud and landing on his stupid ass. In a matter of seconds, he is drenched in water and mud. Noodle in a bit more skilled, regaining her water pistol and aiming it at you. You have to admit, it does catch you off guard a moment, however, the pistol runs out faster than the hose. In no time at all, the axe princess had met her watery doom.

You were almost too busy laughing to realize Russel was standing in the doorway, arms folded across his thick chest. His eyebrows were knitted together and his angry gaze was on you.

"What the hell are ya doin', man?" He growls.

"Um...IT'S FACEACHE'S FAULT!" You scream in your own defense, throwing the hose aside, striking the singer in the head.

"Right, well you three knuckleheads, get inside an' help me finish makin' lunch." He turns on his heels and heads back inside. You growl lowly and slowly turn back to the duo. They are no longer where they stood, rather, escaped when you weren't looking. You curse under your breath and head back into the house.

By now, Russel has just finished making the ribs and has 2D and Noodle on dessert duty. The man, himself, was currently making BLTs. He looks up when he sees you.

"Ay, Mudz, help me with the sammiches." He went back to his work. You nod slowly and got to reach for the bread, only to get your hand smacked by a wooden spoon. You pull you hand back quickly, cradling it to your chest.

"Oy! Where'd ye get the damn spoon!?"

"None ya business. Wash yo' hands first." Russel tosses the spoon into the sink and continues with the sandwiches. You growl lowly as you sulk off to the sink, dispense some of the strawberry scented soap onto your hands, then rub at the dirt and grime that had accumulated. It takes quite a bit of time, considering the last time you washed your hands, you had just got done pummeling 2D's face in with your car. No matter, the deed had been done and there was no use dwelling on it. Your hands were now squeaky clean.

You take a seat beside Russel and help put bacon on the sandwiches. By now, 2D and Noodle had finished with the cupcakes, gelatin, and cake and were busy wrapping everything in plastic wrap. When the food was finished, Russel dug out a cooler and all four of you placed the food inside. A second cooler was dug out and beer (and juice for Noodle) was placed inside this one. You helped 2D carry the containers out to geep while Russel carried the fireworks. It was an even tighter squeeze, considering geep was barely big enough to fit the whole group, but eventually, every was packed in like tetris pieces.

The drive to the park was particularly short, but none the less, 2D and Noodle managed to sing along with an entire Madonna album you had stashed away for no particular reason at all. You would never admit it, but you did enjoy the car rides with the gang. It was almost peaceful to you.

When you arrived to the park, you sighed in relief. Barely anyone was there, meaning less public embarrassments for you. Noodle hopped out and immediately headed over to the swings, leaving you, 2D, and Russel to set up the picnic. It took a lot longer than it should have, considering you and 2D fought over who got to carry the beer (regardless, you won and 2D wound up with a foot print on the seat of his pants). Russle set down a blanket, one you recognized to be the comforter off the back of the couch, on the ground, just below a shady tree. 2D laid down now, sprawling out. You take a seat beside him, flicking him in the nose.

He wrinkled his nose, pulling his hat over his eyes. You reached for the cooler with the drinks and pull out a beer, as well as a handful of ice. Working quickly, you shove the ice down 2D's shirt. The boy yelps in surprise and jumps up, running around the park to get the ice out. Now that a spot was clear, you lay yourself down on the blanket and sigh contently. Eventually, Russel had to grab your singer so he'd stop running around and sit him back down. The drummer calls to Noodle, telling her lunch is ready. The child jumps from the swings and flees to the blanket. In no time at all, the ribs are finished and only a single BLT remains. The desert are gone in half that time, and now all of you sit out on the blanket, discussing music.

"I fink we shoul' wroite a son' 'bout lions."

"Lions?" You reach for your fourth beer.

"Yeah, loike, they'e powe'ful and awesome and wha' no'."

"Yeah, but a song bout whales would be so much betteh." You laugh as the singer jumps behind the cooler, covering his head.

"Ay! Ya a'most jumped on the fireworlks!" Russel scolds, pulling the bag closer to him.

"What'd ya bring?" You sit up, trying to get a good look at the merchandise.

"Nothin' really, just bottle rockets an' sparklers."

"Sparklers!" Noodle cheers, finishing off her third cupcake. She smiles bright now, lips stained blue by the frosting.

"Yo, we got a bottle?" Russel stands, pulling out the package of fireworks. 2D takes one final swig of his beer before handing the bottle off to the drummer. The older man uses his heel to smash a hole into the ground and set up the bottle. He slides the firework in, then pats his pockets for a lighter.

"Anyone got a light?"

You dig through your pockets, finding a nearly empty blue bic lighter. You shrug and toss it to the older man. Eyes turn sky wards as the fuse is lit and it a matter of seconds, the evening sky is alight with flashes of red, white, and blue. While Russel lights off the bottle rockets, 2D gets his own lighter out of geep and lights a sparkler, handing it off to Noodle. The child's eyes are filled with happiness and amazement as she watches the sparks fly from her hands.

2D lit three more sparklers and passed them around so now each member had one. You smile a bit as you watch your three band mates laughing and smiling together, drawing pictures in the air. This had to be your favorite part of Fourth of July.

"OW! FUCK!"

And that was your least favorite part. Getting your hand burned by a sparkler.


	4. Movie Night

It wasn't often that the band got together in the living room, seated themselves on the couch, and watched a movie in peace. Most of the time, Noodle would argue about which movie to watch, wanting to watch Enter The Dragon for the eighth time, Russel would eat all the popcorn by the beginning of the movie and Murdoc would smash the emptied bowl over your head. However, today, everything was going okay.

It was about eleven at night, you think. Not that it had mattered to you at all. You had been fast asleep since four that afternoon. At least...you thought it was four. You never could quite remember time after a migraine. You kick a hole into your blanket cocoon and poke your head out into the chilled air. You let your eyes adjust to the dim light before peeking out to the digital clock on your nightstand.

11:32pm. Just like you thought.

Groaning lowly, you emerge from the hole you had made, regretting it quickly as you are suddenly reminded just how cold your room was. Goose bumps appear on your skin as you quickly retreat to your cocoon.

Alright...let's try that again.

Securing your blanket around your shoulders, you slowly inch your way from your bed to the door. You walk zombie-style to the lift before tripping into it. You curl up on it's metal floor as it transports you upstairs. You must have fallen asleep because next thing you know, Murdoc is kicking you in the side.

"Yeah, Russ, 'e's still breathin'." You hear him mumble as you slowly regain consciousness. Noodle leaps out of no where and lands square on your chest, waking you up completely. You choke as you try to get air back into your lungs, which proves to be a challenge as Noodle has planted herself there.

"The hell you doin', sleepin' in the damn lift." Russel folds his arms and leans against the door. You shrug your shoulders, doing your best to keep your blanket on your body. Noodle worms her way into the blanket with you, pressing her tiny back against your chest. She peeked her head out under the neck hole you left for yourself and grinned up at the drummer. She was wide awake now. The older man runs his thick hand over his face before looking back at you two.

"Baby girl's never gone get ta bed after this." He groans, glaring at Murdoc now.

"Why ya glarin' at me?" He growls.

"Cause it was yo' stupid ass who had ta find 'D in the damn lift."

"Oh, blame i' on me, why don't ya!"

"I just did, man!" Russel throws his arms in the air, yelling loud enough to shake the whole studio. You jump at his voice, accidently hitting your head against the wall. The pain quickly blossoms and just like that, you lose consciousness again. The next thing you hear is Murdoc growling,

"Well, wake him up!"

"Quit fuckin' screamin', yer scarin' Noodle."

"Hai!" Noodle chirps happily. You groan, peeling your eyes open slowly. Your vision is slightly off, you quickly notice.

"Should we take him ta the hospital?" Russel turns his head to Murdoc.

"I ain't payin' for a damn hospital visit 'cause Faceache knocked himself out!" Murdoc looks like his head could blow up at any minute.

"What if he got a concussion?" Russel folds his thick arms. And just like that, Murdoc has a plan.

"Jus' dun let him sleep!"

"How the hell we gone do that?"

"Easy, just put on a zombie marathon, tha' fucker's gonna be up all night!" Murdoc seems pleased with himself and quite frankly, so does Russel.

"Fine, but we gotta stay up to make sure he don't fall asleep."

"Hey, it'll be fun, right, Noodle?" Murdoc nods toward the ten-year-old."

"HAI!" The girl smiles brightly, hugging her blue haired buddy. You look down at her and smile a bit, ruffling her hair. You notice now that you are on the couch, still wrapped in your blanket. Noodle is sharing the blanket with you, smiling up at you. There is a cool icepack taped to your head with what you assume is duct tape.

Russel reaches over you two and turns on the tv. It plays only static at first, the sound alone making your cringe. The swirling black and white patterns begin to hurt your black orbs for eyes and you close them tightly, only to get whacked across the cheek by the bassist.

"Oy, faceache, wake up!" He growls, causing your eyes to snap open.

"So'y, Mudz, jus' the tv was hurtin' meh eyes." Your reply weakly, looking up toward him. You couldn't look directly at him without cringing from the lamp behind him. Any other way, Murdoc is just plain scary to look at.

"Dun care, faceache, just stay up."

"'Op'orn!" Noodle cheered suddenly.

"WHAT!?" Murdoc goes dead serious, "WE AIN'T WATCHIN' PO- Oh...you meant popcorn..." He visibly shrinks behind the couch as Russel returns to the room, a bowl of popcorn in his hands. Judging by the kittie pool he has it in, you assume there is at least five bags of popcorn in there. The smell makes your mouth water and you try to sit up now. Noodle pushed you back down.

"No up, Toochi-san. No up." She protests, making you laugh just a bit.

"Fine, Noods, 'll lay ba' down." You rest your head against the arm of you couch and the little axe princess snuggles against your chest again. You turn back to the tv now, watching the swirling patterns change into a scene from your favorite movie: Resident Evil.

"T'is is a classi'!" You smile brightly, watching the gore and zombies fly across the screen.

"Man, these graphics a'e fuckin' awful!" Russel comments, sitting on the end of the couch. Murdoc lays himself down on the floor, taking a handful of popcorn for himself. Not even an hour into the movie, the same bassist is shoving his face into a pillow.

"WE SHOULDA JUS' TAKEN HIM TO THE HOSPITAL!"

"Shu' up! I can' 'ear the movie!" 2D protects.

"How many sequal does this movie have again?" Russel looks over at the singer.

The number alone is enough to send Murdoc running for the hills.


	5. Babysitting part 1

You seriously had no idea what you were thinking. Maybe it was the urgency of the moment that lead you to make such a crazy decision. Whatever the reason, you could punch yourself in the face for it now. Okay, now you are getting way to far ahead of yourself. Let's begin with how this all began.

It was a Tuesday, you think, beyond weird shit usually happened around KONG on Tuesday. Not that the day mattered to you in anyway. You had been taking a nap after finally completing a months worth of taxidermy projects in one go. It occurred to you that you really weren't making good decisions today, but, you were feeling inspired.

You ran your bandana over your sweaty scalp before slowly rising to your numb feet.

"That should be enough for today." You smile proudly at your projects before stretching your stumpy limbs, wincing as you feeling your back pop. Deciding there was no better way to end the day, you shut the lights off in your workshop and head to the lift. You are about to press the button when a shriek fills to halls.

Noodle.

"Babygirl?" You call out to her as you begin heading in the direction of the scream, panic setting in. Every possible scenario plagues your thoughts until you finally reach the living room. A bit of relief sets in as you notice Noodle, completely unharmed, standing on the couch. However, the relief is short lived as you follow her eyes to where exactly she was looking at. Laying on the ground, one arm so far out of the socket, it almost made you throw up, was 2D.

"'D! What happened, man?" You help the man up, a little too quickly apparently as he is soon yelping in pain.

"Trie' doin' a car'wheel off ta couch. Floo' was we' o' somefink." 2D tries to explain. Sure enough, a soda had spilled, making the floor rather slick.

"C'mon man, we need ta get ya to a hospital." You head to get your coat.

"Wha's goin' on in 'ere?" Murdoc growls, storming into the room, "SWEET SATAN, FACEACHE! Wha' the bloody 'ell happened to yer arm!?"

"Car'wheels."

"Faceache, only ewe can ge' hurt doin' a cartwheel." Murdoc growls lowly, making to slap the man across the face.

"Murdoc, you watch Noodle while I get 'D to a hospital." Murdoc's hand stops midair as the words leave the drummer's mouth.

"ME!? Why do I got to do it?" The bassist near whines.

"Cause you ain't drivin' 'D to a hospital." You growl back, scooting the singer to the geep. Murdoc looks down at Noodle, who looks up at him. She then kicks him in the knee and flees down the hall.

The second you see Kong in your rear-view mirror, you realize you've probably made a horrible, horrible mistake


	6. Babysitting part 2

You stand in the middle of the living room, recently left by your drummer and singer. Any asshole in his right mind would have spun on his heels, retreated back to his loving love-shack on wheels and gotten drunk until he forgot his own name. But no, they just had to leave you with a responsibility, didn't they?

Speaking of responsibility...where was your responsibility?

Deciding the child would eventually come to you, you sit on the beat up couch, the springs groaning under your weight. You take the time to really inspect the house, counting the lines in the plaid fabric and making a hole in the cloth much worse than it already was. You cursed lightly, thinking now would be a great time to get a new couch, but you know what, this couch was so...comfortable. It was so comfortable, you just had to nuzzle your head against the cloth of the arm rest. It was so comfortable you just had to close your eyes.

It was so comfortable, you just had to fall asleep for two hours on it.

You woke up suddenly to the sound a pots crashing to the floor and scraping against each other, causing the worst possible clattering you had ever heard in your life.

"SWEET SATAN, WHAT THE BLOODY 'ELL IS GOIN' ON!?" You jump, nearly falling off that damn comfy couch. Oh right, you weren't alone in the studio...

OH RIGHT, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE WATCHING NOODLE!

Quickly springing from the couch, you trip over the coffee table, cursing loudly as your chest makes contact with the floor. You get your breath knocked out of you when you hear rummaging through the cupboards. You hardly have time to suck in another breath when you hear boxes falling. It takes you a few minutes to completely regain your senses and pull yourself off of the dirtied shag rug before returing to your mission.

"Noodle, luv, where ya at?" You half call, half stammer. There is no answer, but you pick up on the faint scurrying of feet. You make your way to the kitchen, only to find it completely in shambles. Pots and cups lay broken on the floor, as well as particularly sharp looking knives. Drawers are pulled out of their places and now lay scattered among the mess. Cabinet draws are still wide open as you carefully step your way around the ruins of what was your kitchen.

And empty box of pocky lets you know exactly who the culprit was.

"NOODLE!" You yell, stepping over an over turned pot. The only response you get is the small patter of feet against the wood floor.

"So, we'e gonna play, eh?" You would have rolled up your sleeves had you been wearing a shit as you carefully step around shattered pieces of plate, "Fine, then, we'll play." You're finally out of the kitchen and making your way up the stairs now. You wince as you put a majority of your weight on the top step, feeling it shift and hearing it creak under you. Figuring the stairs wouldn't be your best bet, you quickly make your way to the lift, sliding inside and pushing the up button.

As if the stairs weren't bad enough, the lift grinds its way upward and halts with such an annoying screech, you almost forgot what it was you had even come upstairs for. A faint humming down the hall quickly reminds you as you leap from the box and tip toe your way down the hall.

"GOT E-." Your sentence is cut off by a very quick regret.

* * *

Meanwhile:

Russel sits in the waiting room, slightly irritated by the stark white walls and chemical aroma in the air. You watch as 2D struggles with the doctors, four to be exact, two nurses as well, scared to death about what they would do. It had already been half an hour for a procedure that should have take only half that time. All four doctor have a limb while one of the nurses tries to slide the bone back into place. 2D struggles against their hold, shaking the examination bed he was on.

"Jus' knock him out already, man." You call from your chair, another nurse shooting you a look. Though she agreed completely, it was never that simple. Somewhere during the struggle, 2D slipped off the bed, landing on the floor. The angle he had fell from shoved his shoulder back into place.

"Now was that so hard?" One of the various doctors asks, holding a hand to the bite marks on his wrist. 2D only glares at him. Those bite marks would lead to be a very painful reminder of what Stu was capable of.

"Well...dat was easy." You stand now, no longer willing to comprehend the phenomenon that was Stuart Pot. You pick the boy up and exit the hospital as quickly as possible. With the lad all drugged up, you didn't have much to worry about aside from getting him in to geep without bonking his head on the door frame (Which you admittedly did...twice) and head on back to that horror house you called Kong Studio. You expected Murdoc to be drunk on the couch and Noodle to be wide awake, eating cereal off the floor again, but much to your surprise, the living room is vacant.

"Uh...Muds?" You call from the door way, slowly setting 2D down on the floor. The poor drugged man bursts into a fit of laugher now.

"2D, man, this is serious." You try to reason but the boy just keeps giggling. You roll your eyes, now calling out to Noodle. Still, no reply. Its at this point that you begin to panic, hurriedly making your way up the stairs.

"Noodle?" You fling open her bedroom door, only to shriek in terror.

* * *

2D wakes up on the living room floor with a pounding headache and sore shoulder.

You slowly pull yourself off of the shag carpet, no longer capable of standing the retch smell of the damn thing. You make a mental note on that piece of paper you called a brain to get Murdoc to clean the floor, slowly making your way to the kitchen. You've barely in the doorway when you notice the smashed bits of china.

"Wha' the fuck 'appened in 'ere?" You mumble to yourself, carefully setting your foot on a clear patch of floor. You slowly make your way through the wreck, heading over to the sink. You reach into your jean pocket, getting your bottle of pain meds out. You go to unscrew the lid and wince, feeling a seering pain run up your arm. Deciding you were in no condition to open your own pill bottle, you call out,

"Russel?"

Nothing

"Murdoc?"

Still Nothing

"Noodle!?"

A very faint giggling fills the air. Shrugging, you make your way out of the kitchen, going straight for the lift. By the time the box makes it to the top floor, a sickening aroma of flowers hits your nose, making your head pound harder. Dragging yourself from the lift, you head in the direction of the horrifying smell. You reach Noodle's bedroom door and turn the knob slowly. You cringe at the scent of perfume before your eyes fill with tears.

Tears of laugher, that is.

Murdoc tugs at the hem of his mini skirt, growing lowly. His cherry red lipstick does nothing to complement his skin tone and the big pink bow in his hair clashes horribly. Russel's blue eyeshadow in no way matched his sparkly pink tiara, his tutu giving himself a much bigger figure.

Noodle, wearing a floppy sunhat with a beautiful purple ribbon sat at the edge of the table, pouring tea into some cups.

"A tea party?!" You only have time to topple in laughter before you too are dragged into the tea party.

Who cares. It was worth it.

**_A/N: Dedicated to my buddy Kayla who needed some cheerin' up :D Hope ya liked it!_**


	7. Birthday Budz

Who ever invented birthdays just needed to be smacked upside the head. Who ever invented the birthday party needed to be beat with a stick. And whoever invented the gawd damn Pinata need a solid high five and a Nobel Peace Prize.

Relieving agression AND getting free candy? It was a pretty freaking sweet deal.

And lucky for a Mr. Stuart Pot, that was exactly what he needed.

Today was October 31st, 2001, Halloween Eve, as well as Noodle's eleventh birthday. With more than enough candy and decorations for both events, it was your job to pick up the cake. You really had no idea why Murdoc or Russel even remotely trusted you with picking up such a fragile thing, but it really didn't matter at all to you. You simply shut up after being threatened by Murdoc, tugged your shoes on and threw your jacket over your shoulders. You headed down the street, almost regretting not taking a heavier coat with you. It was freezing out today, as was Halloween every year. The Sun shined brightly on the city you lived in, but that was rather misleading as a strong gust of wind pelted your face, making your eyes prick and water.

You blinked past the tears as you remembered the task at hand; Operation: Pick up Noodle's cake or at least die trying.

Easy enough, right? Well, the fact that there even a was a 'Or Die Trying' part to the plan is what threw you off course. Something always had to go wrong, you _were _in the Gorillaz after all. Even if you weren't, those bakery store lines were like death traps!

There was always some little kid coughing on everything, some old lady who took forever to figure out her order, and they ALWAYS managed to misspell SOMETHING on the cake.

Despite these odds, you knew you still had a job to do and damn it, you were gonna do it!

A particularly strong wind rips you from your thoughts as you realize you had nearly passed the bakery. You blush a bit as you take a few paces backwards and retreat in to the store. Aside from the chaos and confusion, you really did like the smells a bakery had in it. The breads, cakes, those messed up cookies they gave out for free, you just loved all of it! If you had it your way, you would stay in the bakery all da-

"Number 243? Number 243?" A rather bored voice called out. You looked down at the ticket in your hand before confirming the numbers in your head.

"uh, yes." You threw your hand up so the voice wouldn't call the next number and made your way to the register. The woman behind the counter looked to be about twenty-three, your age, actually. She had long, curly brown hair and wore dark red lipstick. With a body shape that even a platinum hourglass would be jealous of, you would have even thought she was beautiful had she not had that painfully dull voice. You might have looked past that as well had she not been obnoxious snapping her gum, making you inwardly cringe.

"What can I help you with?" She rested her head on the palm of her hand, looking more interested in the clock hanging on the opposite wall than you.

"Um, yes. 'm 'ere ta pick up a cake fer Noodle." You distinctly remember Russel leaving that name for the Bakery when it came time for Pick-up. Noodle had been excitedly bouncing on the couch, shouting out what exactly she wanted on the cake. Russel was trying to calm the girl down when asked what name the pick up was for. Not that it mattered or anything; it was Noodle's cake after all.

"Oh, right. The one with the zombies and unicorns, right?"

"Uh, yes. tha' woul' be it." You almost had to laugh, remembering how Noodle had used the terms 'Toochi-san look its' and 'Pretty Rhino' to describe the creatures in question.

The woman disappears behind several boxes of cake before returning with a soft pink box. She sets it on the counter, "There ya are." She opens the lid to show you the decorative job.

'Happy Birthday, _Noidle_'

Great, just great.

* * *

Now out of the dreaded shop (with one horribly misspelled cake) you walk up the street. The sun had gone behind the clouds now, shrouding everything in the shade. The unforgiving wind has yet to cease, making you regret not bringing a heavier jacket even more (if that was even possible). Groaning, you tug the thin fabric of your jacket closer to your body, being careful not to drop the cake in your hands. Speaking of dropping, you loo up just in time to see a small child drop a rather fake looking hatchet, more than likely part of their Halloween costume. You almost have to roll your eyes, remembering the fake hatchet Murdoc had purchased for Noodle last ye-

Purchased...

For...

Noodle...

It's at this very moment that you begin to realize something. You freeze up from horror, opposed to the bone chilling cold that surrounded you.

You hadn't forgotten to pick up a present for Noodle!


	8. Death of A Beloved

Death is a very tragic thing. It doesn't matter how many times it's experienced, no one every really know how to react to it until it happens. It so strange to think that one day, someone could be there, and the next they're gone. It's frustrating to know you have absolutely no control over, and all you can do is sit by as it happens, though you want nothing more that to jump up and stop it, as if it is a bully on the playground that can easily be overcome with the right moves. With a good hit and a sentence formed just the right way.

You can always feel it, no matter what. You always know it's about to occur, but you never know when or how. All you can do is swallow the lump in your throat and wait.

It came too soon everyone in the house thinks. Way to soon. It had been such a beautiful day too. A late Saturday afternoon that put every other day of the week to shame. The sun shown over Kong Studio in such a way that that graves in the yard seemed to glisten with the tears of the zombies whom they belonged to. The shadows thrown by the dirtied windows of the home, filling the rooms with an odd sense of beauty, as if one were looking into a ancient bottle tossed to sea, discovering one of the most passionate love letters they would ever read in their lives.

The house is still in such a way that would make it seem as though no one had lived there in centuries, the objects within the home otherwise undisturbed by the people who inhabited it. The TV remained off, the kitchen without a cook, every bed in the home emptied of its occupant.

It seemed so fitting, really. Now was not the time to lose brain cells over stupid cartoon shows and news stations that repeated the same two stories of politics and war for weeks on end. Now was not the time to fix a snack with whatever mold free food was left in the nearly bare cupboards of the kitchen, nor was it time for sleeping the day away.

No, now was the time to mourn.

The death had been so sudden, leaving no one the time to really know how to feel. Sadness set in first, quickly followed by an ineffable feeling of frustration and anger. Swears left dry mouths and tears fell from red rimmed eyes. The black veil of sorrow was evident in the black clothing on the bodies of the depressed. Heads were bowed as the band known as Gorillaz gathered to bury their youngest member.

"I 'ave a few wo'ds ta sa-" 2D begins slowly, lifting his head before it is slapped back in to place by Murdoc.

"Ey, faceache, I thought we said Noods was gonna speak!"

"No, no, Murdoc-san, it is alright. Toochi-san may say it instead." Noodle adjusts the black hat on her head, rubbing a tear from her eyes.

"Can we hurry this up, we don't all fit in this damn stall." Russel growls, situated between Noodle and the toilet handle.

"Well...Skippy was a good fish...bu' 'e's dead now...so yeah...le's flush 'im..." 2D concludes, nodding his head, finally willing to let go. Noodle flings herself into the lanky singer's arms as the biggest of them all pulls the plug...er, flushes the toilet.

Skippy the fish is flushed away, but never forgotten.

Murdoc looks up now, "Well...let's go get another fish."


	9. Christmas

Ah, there was nothing quite as great as Christmas. Every one in the house had to hand it to Russel, his over planned meals at this time of year were to die for. Right now, the house was buzzing with different timers going off, different smells in the kitchen, and most importantly, food was fucking everywhere! It was impossible to look anywhere in the kitchen without finding some type of dish lining the counter tops.

"Is it ready yet?" Murdoc had actually crawled up from the garbage dump he called his Winnebago, just to check on dinner. Russel looked up from the pie filling he was currently working on and shook his head,

"Nah, man, won't be done for 'nother...two hours, I think." The man scrunched up his face in an attempt to clear his memory enough to do actual math, but a loud, over done groan from the bassist snapped him out of his thoughts.

"But I'll be dead by then."

"Good." The drummer shot back, aiming a spoonful of recently concocted mashed potatoes in the general direction of the bassist's face.

"Aye! Watch it, Lards!" Murdoc steps out of the line of fire just in time for the creamy food to hit the back wall behind him.

"Why don't you jus' get outta my kitchen?" Russel snaps back, returning the spoon of potatoes to the pot they belonged in. Murdoc growls, shoving his hands into his pockets before returning to the disgusting van he called his 'Winne'.

Chuckling to himself, Russel turned back to the bowl of filling he had been working on minutes before, casting a glance up to the clock.

He had sent a certain blue-haired singer and purple haired guitarist out to pick up another can of cranberry sauce, but that was at least an hour ago.

Russel knew that the two had been rather fond of each other, only growing closer with each passing year, especially with the leaf of absent between to two, but the fear of them getting too intimate never crossed the drummer's mind. He knew those two well enough to know that they wouldn't do anything too rash.

Not yet, anyway.

At that moment of contemplation, the two people in question came barreling through the door. Shopping bags were hooked around arms and got caught between legs, tripping up both boy and girl as they skidded into the kitchen, crashing to the floor in a graceful heap.

"We are back, Russel-san." Noodle flung a fist in the air to make her presence know among the surplus of paper bags about her head. A small grunt was all Russel had to go by to know that 2D was not dead.

"What all did you get?" The drummer crosses his thick arms over his chest, looking at all the bag before him.

"Just a few-"

"Whip Cream." Noodle piped up, her arms already containing at least five bottles of the substance. Russel almost had to roll his eyes when a certain bassist went climbing up the stairs.

"Oy, is Faceache and Noodle back?" The man looked about the kitchen, eyes landing on the two in question.

"Is dinner ready yet?' Noodle turned back to the bags, setting the bottles on the table.

"Yeah, is dinneh readeh yet?" 2D leans a majority of the weight he doesn't have onto the counted behind him. Russel looks again at the turkey,

"Nah, man, bought one more hour."

"It was two when I asked!" Murdoc exclaims, acting as though he has been cheated in some way.

"It's been an hour since then, man." Russel rolls his eyes, shutting the bassist up.

* * *

"Murdoc-San, please pass the gravy." Noodle asks politely, adding an additional piece of turkey to her already over-flowing plate.

"Nah-"

"Now!"

"Pass the turkey, luv." 2D asks just as politely. Russel, being sure to keep his elbows off the table, quirks an eyebrow,

"Okay, so why are ya'll really actin' so damn polite?"

"Santa only gives presents to the good children." Noodle answers, offering a grin,

"Ya over-drew on my credit card didn't ya?"

"Hey, who wants pie?" Noodle asks, rising from her seat quickly.

"I'll 'elp ya with the whip cream, luv." 2D rises to his feet and the two disappear into the kitchen. Russel rolls his eyes and Murdoc pours gravy into his cup of rum,

"Cause Lord only knows we have enough whip cream..."

"MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM THE GORILLAZ!" 2D, Noodle, and Murdoc exclaim at once. Russel looks up quickly.

"Who the hell are ya'll even talkin' to?"

"The readers, Russel-san."

"The who?"

"The readers." 2D reinforces Noodle's previous statement.

"Great, now ewe two jus' broke the fourth wall." Murdoc folds his arms.

"What?' Russel is utterly confused, looking about him as Cooliochick5 ends the chapter with an Author's Note.

**_A/N: HAPPY HOLIDAYS, EVERYONE!_**


	10. Hot Summer Dayz

June was always the hottest freakin' month of the year! Really! You want to know the temperature of Satan's balls? Just stick your head out the damn window in June! That's how hot! You could fry an egg in its shell if you weren't careful enough to keep your ass in doors!

Unfortunately for the Gorillaz, its was hot whether they stayed in doors or not. You see, in a freak accident that involved nothing but Murdoc, a paper clip, and a beer, the air conditioner had been smashed in with a baseball bat!

"Damn it, Mudz! Why the hell did ya break the damn AC!" Russel yells in anger, grabbing a near by vinyl record to fan his face and neck. Both men are in the living room, the older one in a recliner while the drummer finds the couch more fitting to sprawl out on. Murdoc growled in anger, setting his lukewarm beer down on his thigh,

"Knock that crap off, Russ, that's a collector!" He makes a swipe at the vinyl in the drummers hand, but it really too hot to follow that up with anything. Russel rolls his eyes, simply pulling his arm away and continued to fan himself. Murdoc, simply too lazy to return to his upright position, mumbles profanities under his breath, letting his upper half hang over the arm rest of his recliner. His beer is long since forgotten and begins to pool between his legs, offering very little relief to the man.

"Noodle! Quit splashing!" A shriek from the bands very own singer, 2D, is heard from the open window. Judging by the way the boy's voice had been carried to the window and the mention of the young guitarist's name, but must have been up on the roof. The mention of splashing implies that water may be involved in whatever it was they were up to.

"Toochi-san, you're taking up the whole pool!" The guitarist squeaks, though it sounds to be more in humor than in anger. Laughs are shared between the two as a heavy amount of water splashes down from the room, falling just outside of the living room window.

"Russ...am I hallucinating? I just saw water..." Murdoc lolls his head to the side, looking more so at the clock on the wall beside the drummer instead of the drummer himself. Russel, who had been too busy trying to sleep off the incredible heat, jolts his head upward,

"Wha? Ya say somethin' man?"

"I just saw wateh, over by the window." Murdoc attempts to point in the direction of the window, but decides quickly that it is simply too much work.

"What? It ain't rainin', man." Russel looks over to make sure. Of course he just had to be right. The sun was currently blazing down on the home, not a single cloud for miles. However, the water soon returned to the window, now flowing in a constant stream. More laughter could be heard from 2D and Noodle, still sounding at though they had been atop the roof.

"Russ..I can hear the giggles of children...does the giggles of children usually come with hallucinations?" Murdoc made an attempt to look up at the drummer, whoa t this point was still fixated on the water just outside their window.

"Where the hell is that water comin' from?" Russel stood slowly from his seat, wincing a bit as colors began to flood his vision from sitting too long. Murdoc opens his mouth to speak, however, he instead allows his tongue to loll to the side, too lazy to form a true sentence. Russel scrunches his face in disgust, opting to disregard the bassist instead of waiting for a verbal response.

"A'ight," The drummer reaches before him for the coffee table to steady himself as he rises to his feet, using the back of his right hand to mop the sweat that accumulated on his forehead from the 'work out', "Let's go check it out."

"I don-"

"Just get the hell up already."

* * *

"Fink tha's enough wateh, luv?" 2D is currently perched outside a plastic kitty pool, watching his purple haired friend lower herself into the water, testing the depth. The girl looks about her, sighing in relief as the cool temperature of the water quails the summer heat around her.

"I's perfect, Toochi-san." She gives him a thumbs up as she lowers further into the water, her back nearly parallel with the bottom of the pool. 2D nods in response, shutting off the hose and tossing it over the side of the roof, clunking a zombie on it's split skull in its descent.

The lanky singer slipped into the pool beside his young friend, immediately meeting her beneath the water of the pool, blowing a stream of bubbles through his nose as water threatened to fill it. The initial chill of the water did nothing to phase the singer, his body quickly adjusting to the change in temperature. The only thing that would pull 2D from the bottom of the pool besides lack of oxygen would be small thin hands from the girl beside him.

"Toochi-san, Russel-san and Murdoc-san would like access into our pool club. Should we allow that?" The guitarist has since put a pair of goggles over her emerald eyes, her hair plastered to her face. 2D would have laughed had he not been using all of his thinking power to determine an answer to Noodle's question.

"Uh...do we 'ave the room?" 2D looked about the plastic pool, noting the close proximity he and his current companion were already in. Noodle takes note of the two before her and the one beside her before coming to a conclusion.

"Russel-san can join. Murdoc-san can have the hose." She states simply before returning beneath the water. Murdoc's face twist in dissproval but before he has time to argue, the drummer has already joined the pool.

Had it not been two million degrees out, Murdoc would have started a fight. But that was not the case for today.

"Water," The boozer comments as he retreats from the roof, a new plan already in mind, "Least I get the bathtub to meh self."


End file.
